


Nametag

by LuminousLawliet



Category: Death Note, Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Confusion, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fast Food, Loneliness, Love/Hate, M/M, Rejection, Rich boy, Workplace Relationship, poor boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousLawliet/pseuds/LuminousLawliet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snobby college student Light Yagami has a humbling encounter with snarky fast food employee L. Light, both smitten and confused, can't seem to get the quirky aspiring detective out of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited, you guys! This is my very first post on AO3 and I'm very happy to be here! I hope everyone enjoys my work. Thank you for reading!

It’s just an ordinary day and I’m trying to catch a break between classes. 

I walk into the restaurant annoyed for two reasons. First and foremost, there’s a jarringly terrible Hideki Ryuuga song blaring without restraint on the fuzzy speakers. Who listens to this garbage? The music industry has gone to crap. I swear. I could grind down my teeth right now but I won’t. After all, my winning smile is part of my charm, which reminds me of the second reason I’m so irritated at the moment. I never eat fast food. Never. When consuming fast food, the human body is just asking to be pulverized by preservatives and whatever other rat poison they’re sprinkling into the hamburgers. It’s a proven fact, probably. I’m hungry and need to get to the library to study as soon as possible, so this will have to do. 

I stride up to the counter to place my order – one cheeseburger and the smallest order of French fries they offer. I’m mad enough at myself for subjecting my body to this trash, so I might as well go easy on eating it. I open my mouth to order and the guy behind the counter is staring at me with this blank look on his face like his physical body is in the restaurant, but his soul is elsewhere. Scratch that, I’m not so sure he even has a soul. He’s got on a paper hat like all of the other employees but it’s off to the side of his head and I can’t fathom how it stays there without falling off. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week – or ever. Ryuuga continues crooning his plaintive, sappy bullcrap from the static infected sound system. I’ll be humming this idiotic song later, I know it.

“One cheeseburger and a small order of fries,” I say.

“That’s all?” he drones, with the tone of voice where you’d expect a smirk but there isn’t one to be found. 

“That’s all,” I repeat.

He sighs away the obvious burden I must be placing on him and punches in some buttons on the register like it’s second nature to him. I can’t put my finger on what his problem is with the world, but I know his type. He’s the kind of guy who wears t-shirts from obscure bands and a stone face to the world, but probably sneaks over to pet shops and pets all the kittens and cries late into the night about how he hasn’t figured out the universe yet. Guys like this are a dime a dozen, and they all bother me.

He’s taking forever to give me a total on a whopping two items, or maybe my mind is moving so rapidly thinking about how much I dislike him for no adequate reason that I’ve lost all concept of time. I look around trying to find somewhere to rest my gaze and I notice his nametag pinned carelessly to his uniform. There isn’t any actual name on the tag, just a single letter L. I’m perplexed.

“So,” I begin as he smashes his thumbs into the register buttons with gusto. “Does the L stand for something?” I don’t know why I’m asking this. I really don’t care. I think I’m trying to get some kind of reaction out of him because I’m simply bored and I don’t like him.

“It stands for ‘none of your business,’” he groans.

“Hey,” I gasp, taken aback. What is wrong with this guy? “That doesn’t start with L.”

“$3.95,” he cuts me off, tipping his head to acknowledge the line of people forming behind me to partake in eating this nasty food. I scrape the money out of my wallet, double checking the prices on the menu to make sure he isn’t overcharging me.

I sit down at a table coated with fossilized remnants of soft drinks and an overzealous employee with blonde pigtails be-bops in time with the music to the table with my food. It looks like sewage on a plate, and she thinks she’s so cute, from the glitter on her eyelids down to the pink bow shoe clips on her ballet flats. She leaves a sandpapery napkin with a dark lipstick kiss and her phone number conspicuously atop the tray. This is why I never frequent places like this. It’s always the same thing. 

One bite into the hamburger and there’s the guy again – bent over like an overcooked spaghetti noodle sweeping the floor with a zombie-like pace. He’s focused on everything and nothing and his face, yeah his face, is just bothering me terribly.

“Hey,” I sputter. He looks at me like I’ve just insulted his mother and I don’t know why I’m talking to him again.

“Let me guess,” he hums in the same tone from before. His voice is like the whirring of the fan in an overheating laptop, mixed with an angry beehive, and a strong cup of espresso. “You need more salt, don’t you?”

“No, in fact, I do not need more salt,” I snap. The food is surprisingly good, to my chagrin. No wonder people get sucked into eating this stuff.

“Then what do you want, Light Yagami?” he demands, looking me straight in the eye. I feel violated by his stare, and he knows my name.

“Have we met?” I’m sweating and I don’t know why. He sighs to the ceiling, tosses a lock of raven silk out of his sleepless eyes and wraps his long fingers around the back of a chair, pulling it over to the table next to me. The chair grinds against the concrete floor, making a sound worse than the Ryuuga song that is somehow still playing overhead (it must be an extended version), and he’s not bothered by the sound. That’s the thing – he just doesn’t care, not about anything. 

“Have we met?” I repeat, because he’s not talking and I’m not comfortable.

“I’m in your classes at To-Oh,” he replies. “All of them.”

“You’re in the criminal justice program too, then?” I ask rhetorically. Of course he is. How else would we be in all the same classes? I want to smack myself in the forehead right now, or better yet, smack him in the forehead.

He spins the chair around backward and leaps into it feet-first, crouching in the seat and draping his sinewy, pasty arms over his knees. That’s when it hits me. I recognize him. 

“I am,” he answers me while my mind is playing tic-tac-toe. “I want to be a detective.” 

He’s in all of my classes. He huddles up in the back of the lecture halls, with his knees drawn into his chest. He keeps his head down, like he’s holding a demon in his ribcage and could spit fire if he were to open his mouth. But I don’t know him. 

“Right,” I stutter. “I’m going to do the same so I can be like my dad. He’s a police chief.” I want to put my head down on the soda stained table after making that childish comment. I sound like a three year old, shaving off a whipped cream beard with a spoon and saying he’s just like daddy dearest.

“Yes, I know,” the guy responds dismissively. “It must be nice.”

“What must be nice?”

“It must be nice to have everything handed to you like that,” he begins. “Not all of us are dealt the four aces from the get-go, Light.” My body locks up from discomfort and I’m coated with goose bumps at him using my name again, especially since I know nothing of him aside from he sits strangely and wants to be a detective and has a faded letter L on his name tag. “I grew up in an orphanage. I’m working here so I can get through school and make something out of myself.”

“Okay,” I say, baiting him to continue.

“You look down on me, don’t you?” he ponders, raising his thumb to his lower lip and smiling out of the corner of his mouth. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Excuse me?” I’m deeply offended and I’m not sure of the reason. “You were rude to me when I first got here! How was I supposed to know we had classes together? I was just trying to get something to eat!”

He lifts a flat palm and gently lowers it as if to tell me I’m being too loud for this place and I’m enraged at a guy I barely know scolding me with hand gestures.

“You look right over me in class,” he notes. “Everyone does. You can understand why I’d be a little hostile toward you. Is it because I look the way I do? Is it because I’m not wealthy? Is it because I sit strangely and sneak macarons into the lecture halls?”

I’m speechless. “I, I don’t know. What do you want me to say?”

“Never mind,” he groans. “My shift is over and I need to go study.” He starts to get up from the chair but I grab his arm and pull him back down. My hand wraps all the way around his tiny wrist and I’m undeniably distressed over having this kind of physical contact. We both are, judging by the way his eyes are bugging out.

“I don’t know you!” I exclaim, somewhere between a whisper and a yell. “I’m sorry if I’ve overlooked you or made you think I feel like I have some kind of superiority over you.”

He scoffs right into my face. “Why are you getting so worked up?”

“I don’t know!” I throw my hands up into the air. “You’re frustrating me, that’s why!”

“Sorry to frustrate you,” he laughs. “I guess this tells me what kind of person you really are, though. I’ve always wondered.”

“Was this some kind of strange interrogation tactic so you could figure me out?”

“I said I wanted to be a detective,” he states pointedly. “I never said I would be a completely normal detective. Nothing about me is completely normal.” He gets out of the chair and I let him this time. “I’ll see you around campus, Light,” he declares. “You may not see me though, but that’s okay.”

My food is cold and my appetite is gone. “Wait,” I call to him as he heads for the door. “What does the L stand for?”

“You’ll just have to figure that out,” he says with a wink.

And he’s gone.


	2. Beta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light finds L's missing nametag and decides to use the opportunity to try to talk to him again. L just isn't having it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I poke fun at Light's innate ability to find things that have been dropped on the ground. At least this time it's just a nametag and not a killer notebook. Enjoy!

Kyoko is bothering me again.

“You’re not wearing your name tag today,” she muses, taking advantage of the situation to flick at my collar with an eggplant-hued fingernail. She’ll do anything to put her hands on me.

I back away with apparent disgust and start scraping the grill. “I misplaced it,” I state. “It happens. I’ll ask Wedy for a new one.”

“You missed one heck of a movie last night,” she says, trying pitifully to keep up the conversation. I pretend to listen like I always do but my mind is leaping onto a jet plane and heading to Maui. “…So then Ryuuga’s character blows up the building but he escapes using a jetpack,” she squeals, starry-eyed. “The special effects were mind-boggling. I still can’t believe…” How has she not passed out yet from this rapid-fire speech without taking so much as a single breath between sentences?

“Kyoko, stop. You’re making it difficult for me to concentrate on cleaning the grill,” I protest.

“I’m just trying to tell you about the movie from last night,” her voice grates against my ear. 

“I don’t care about the movie from last night,” I say slowly and coherently and I continue scrubbing the grill with vivacity, because I want it to be somehow apparent that charred meat fragments are more interesting to me than this girl.

“Yeah, maybe that’s why you wouldn’t go with me,” she whines, getting to the point she’s been trying to make all along. Her face flattens with dejection and her messy bob cut nearly swallows her entire face as it sinks down into the collar of her uniform.

“We’ve talked about this,” I groan, lifting a finger. I don’t dare waggle it for fear of looking like a kindergarten teacher punishing an unruly child. “I don’t like going out. I most certainly don’t care for dating.”

“You’re going to be lonely!” she chirps, suddenly re-energized.

“I’m going to be successful,” I respond curtly. “Nothing gets in the way of success when you guard your heart and value your mind. I wouldn’t be going to the most prestigious university in the nation if I cared for frivolous things like dating and poor quality action-adventure films. Now please, go do the job you were hired to do before Wedy yells at both of us.”

Kyoko wanders off, presumably to go stick her face into the deep fryer. Perhaps, she’ll give up on her half-witted advanced for at least a week. Two, if I’m lucky. The stench of cigarette smoke pours into the room like a demonic aura and Wedy follows it.

“Are you going on your break?” she barks. 

“I guess. I haven’t yet so I might as well go now.” 

“Yeah, I wanted to catch you before you went. Someone’s here to see you.” She twiddles her fingers against her thighs and coolly tips her chin over her shoulder. I gaze past her and, good lord, there he is.

Light Yagami.

Misa has already leapt over the counter and ambushed him at the door in a cloud of glitter and vanilla perfume. “You never did call me!” she howls.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” he asks, and it’s tragically clear he honestly does not know.

Misa puffs out her glossy cherry lips into a theatrical pout. “You were here a few days ago and I wrote my phone number on the napkin. You don’t remember me?”

“I’m sorry. You’ll need to be more specific.” 

Misa skulks back behind the counter with zero pizzazz. With no one in the way, I approach him and wave my hand nonchalantly in a half-hearted greeting. 

“Hey Light,” I say to him, maybe a little more cheerfully than I should have. “How’s it going?” I ask, lowering my tone to a more flat and acceptable one.

“I needed to talk to you,” he chokes. “Can we… go outside?” I can almost feel Wedy, Kyoko, and Misa breathing down my neck so I oblige him and we quietly advance outside to a picnic table under an oak tree. He sits down in the chair and I hop into mine and crouch down. He lifts an expertly arched eyebrow even though he’s seen me sit like this before, like it’s an fantastic and unusual sight. I’m not a circus animal, Light, I think to myself. I’m just comfortable like this.

Kyoko peeks out the window and tries and fails to be furtive about it. In the background, Wedy shakes her fist and I observe the shape of her mouth forming multiple obscenities. 

“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” I lie. “What did you want to talk about?” He shifts around in his designer khakis, fumbles with the thin necktie knotted around his throat like a noose. 

“I found something that I think belongs to you.” Reaching into the interior pocket of his sport coat, he retrieves an object with a cupped hand. He reaches out for me to extend my hand, and he drops it into my palm.

My nametag.

“Thanks,” I say, hiding my satisfaction. “I was looking for this.”

“I found it in the courtyard on campus, beside the fountain. I figured you’re the only person who would have a nametag with an L on it, so I brought it right over.”

I applaud slowly to show I’m not giving him any glory for this. “Nice find. Maybe there’s hope for you yet for becoming a decent detective,” I smirk.

“I’m not laughing,” he snaps, but his amber eyes are twinkling. 

“You know you could have just dropped this off at the counter,” I mention. “There wasn’t any need for you to call me out and make a scene.”

He clears his throat. “I still wanted to talk to you.” Suddenly his cheeks become rosy. He’s embarrassed and it’s hilarious. 

“Are you sunburned?” I tease. “Too much time spent in the sun on your dad’s yacht? That isn’t good for you.”

“We have a pontoon,” he replies to correct me. Right. A Pontoon. He doesn’t miss a beat.

“I’m still trying to figure out what that L stands for,” he muses. “It isn’t Leo, is it? You sort of look like a Leo.”

“Nope,” I chuckle. “That’s not even my zodiac sign, but thanks for playing.”

He digs his manicured fingernails into his sandy auburn mane. “Oh well,” he sighs. “I tried.”

“I can tell you’ve really had the gears turning, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot since the other day.” His teeth then sink into his lower lip and his pupils dilate because that sentence did not come out the way he had planned at all. “I just… I don’t know. I feel like you’re angry with me and I don’t like it.” He smells strongly of juniper and shame.

“I’m not angry with you. I don’t even know you,” I remind him.

Misa shuffles awkwardly back and forth at the window, breathing onto the glass and out of the corner of my eye I see Wedy drag her back over to the counter by her collar. Misa picks up a cleaning rag with disgust and pretends to tidy the counter, but she watches us over the shoulder, never taking her eyes off of Light. 

“If I could, I want to get to know you better,” he announces into his lap. His fists are clenched and he is such an idiot.

“So you can find out what the L stands for?” I tease. “Is it killing you that much?”

“You’re so skeptical. You don’t trust anyone, do you?” 

“A good detective is meant to be skeptical. If you had any real-world experience you’d understand that.”

“This isn’t detective work!” Light explodes. “This is a potential friendship. You said no one pays you any mind, that people overlook you. I don’t want you to count me among those people any longer. I want to show you that I’m different.”

I cup my chin in my hand and feign interest. “You want to be friends, huh? How unusual. How interesting.”

Wedy, bless her soul, leans out the door and breathes a thick plume of smoke into the clean spring air. “Hey,” she exhales. “We’re slow on business so why don’t you just go home instead?” She’s gone before I can answer her.

“I guess that’s my ticket out of here,” I grunt, leaping from the chair. 

“Are you heading home?” Light inquires softly.

“Guess you could say that.”

“Do you live on campus?” He’s interrogating me now. Maybe he will get this whole detective thing down after all. 

“I live where I want,” I divulge. “Sometimes it’s the train station. Sometimes it’s the library. Sometimes when Wedy doesn’t know about it I’ll sleep right here.”

“You don’t have anywhere to go?” he gasps. 

Oh Light, you poor little rich boy, you’re so dense. “I have many places to go, I just have to choose one.”

“But… You don’t have a home? Why don’t you come back to my dorm and we can try to find somewhere for you to…”

“Light.”

“What?”

I crumple over; this is too much for me. “I knew it. You’re only interested in talking to me out of your own guilt. You think I’m just a charity case and you feel sorry for me. You’re as interested in actually being my friend as I am in being yours.”

“That isn’t true,” he protests, but he won’t look me in the eye and he jams his hands into the pockets of his starchy khakis. 

“I’m not homeless, Light. It may be a shock to you, but I have an apartment that I pay for myself and if you don’t mind, I’d like to be heading back there now.” I don’t give him a chance for a rebuttal, and even if he’s got one I’m simply not interested. “I’ll see you in class. Thanks again for returning my nametag,” I say politely, and I leave him there looking as dumbfounded and bewildered as he deserves to be.

I’m going home. I’m done talking to him, he’s such an idiot, and no one is ever going to know that I dropped that nametag with the sole intention of him finding it.


	3. Sinking Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There is no love in this world," Light scoffs. "There is only possession."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, get ready for some ACTUAL PLOT!!! (??) Introducing Mikami as Light's goofy roommate, Aiber as Wedy's smooth-talking district manager, and B as a sassy dropout barista with a mysterious connection to L. Told in three parts. Enjoy!

“You treat me like I’m his personal secretary. All I can do is tell him that you called. That’s it. Why don’t you try to call him yourself anyway instead of always going through me?” Teru taps his fingers against the wall impatiently as Kiyomi mumbles an excuse into the phone. “I’ll talk to him, okay?” he sighs, hanging up the phone and hurls it onto the mattress of his twin bed.

“Problem?” Light mutters from the computer on the other side of their dorm.

“Kiyomi says you aren’t answering your phone,” Teru states. “Is there a reason for that?”

Light taps the pocket of his neatly pressed khaki pants. “It’s off. I keep it off during classes, and I guess I forgot to turn it back on. It isn’t like I use it all that much anyway.” 

“At this rate I’m going to need to upgrade my phone plan,” Teru groans. “She constantly calls me looking for you. Do you not want to talk to her?”

“What does she want?” Light asks, deflecting the question.

“Ah, lord,” Teru exhales. “Where do I start? She wants to know if you’re going to call her, and if so, when you’ll be calling so she can be ready. What does that even mean? How do you get ‘ready’ to take a phone call? She wants to know if you want to study together. She wants to know if you’re at baseball practice. She wants to know if you’d like to go for sushi sometime. She wants to know if you’ve made up your mind because if not she said there are plenty of other people she could be seeing. It’s enough to give me a headache or ten.”

“I see,” Light says flatly as his slender fingers glide across the keyboard.

“Honestly, Light. It’s offensive,” Teru says, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up just a smidge higher. “There’s a beautiful girl who loves you to pieces trying to make a move, and..”

“There is no love in this world,” Light scoffs. “There is only possession.”

“Love, possession, whatever. She likes you. If you’re not interested, tell her so I can stop playing human switchboard over here.”

“If there’s plenty of other people she could be seeing, then why don’t you ask her out? By the way you’re talking, it would be beneficial to both of us.” 

Teru doesn’t answer and Light doesn’t expect him to. He scratches his head and joins Light at the computer desk. Light nervously minimizes the page he’s been looking at for the past couple minutes.

“Was that a job search site?” Teru asks inquisitively.

“Maybe,” Light grunts.

“You’re looking for a job?” he queries, almost tauntingly.  
“Maybe,” Light echoes. 

“Why do you want a job? You don’t need money. Aren’t you here on a full scholarship? Don’t your parents foot the bill on everything else like your cell phone and your car insurance? Oh my God, Light. Are you in some kind of financial trouble? What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Light exclaims. “I just feel like I need some real world experience.” The taste of L’s words in his mouth is so sour he nearly chokes.

“I have no idea what you mean by that,” Teru admits.

“Look, Teru, I know you’re studying to eventually become a prosecutor but you don’t have to interrogate me,” Light bluntly declares.

“This is more of a basic interviewing scenario than an interrogation,” says Teru with his nose turned upward. Light wants to uppercut him into the ceiling fan.

“If you’re going to call Kiyomi, you’d better hurry up and do it before I change my mind,” Light grits his teeth, every morsel of his patience depleted. Teru takes the hint and scurries away.

\---

Wedy drains the smoke out of her cigarette. It’s long past closing and she’s puffing away in the back room, mentally and physically preparing for her meeting with him. Huddled on a storage crate, she shudders as she hears a key turn inside the back door and a sliver of moonlight floods the darkened room. He lets himself in, reeking of whiskey and aftershave, and he looks her up and down like a show pony.

“You look disgusting,” he scoffs, licking his lips. 

“That’s not what you said before, Aiber,” she chuckles coyly. 

He squeezes her shoulder and she feels sick. He pulls up a crate adjacent to her and helps himself to a seat. She wonders if she were to projectile vomit on his custom suit at this very moment if it would give her a free pass to get out of this distressing reunion of sorts. Or would Aiber strike her? He exudes unpredictability and he knows it; precisely why Wedy finds him deplorable – and irresistible. 

“We’ve got in the latest sales report,” Aiber states, suddenly composed and businesslike. His cornflower eyes glisten charmingly and Wedy can’t read him at all.

Wedy sucks the last of the venomous nectar from the cigarette and blows a cloud of tar into the greasy air. “And?” Aiber obnoxiously coughs into his sleeve.

“For Heaven’s sake, do you have to do that in here?” he strains. Wedy flicks away the spent cigarette and it crashes into the floor. If there was ever an elegant method for stamping out a cigarette with one’s foot, Wedy is demonstrating it right now. She grinds it into the concrete with the tip of her shoe and she’s not planning to sweep up the ashes. She’s hired peons for that, after all.   
“I’m tired of playing this game,” Wedy rolls her eyes. “Tell me how bad of a job I’m doing, try and fail to flirt with me, and let me go home.”

“I didn’t fail the last time.”

“It was one night. Now get to the point.”

“Your store is the worst in the district,” Aiber complains. 

“We’re also right on To-Oh’s campus. College kiddos aren’t into burger joints anymore. It’s too kitschy, too 1950s. These days it’s all about the high-class sushi restaurants, and obscure hole-in-the-wall cafes where it’s cool just to be seen typing mindlessly on a laptop.”

“You don’t have enough employees.”

“We don’t get enough business to keep anyone,” Wedy counters. “I fired Kyoko last week, but by the look of it, she was ready to jump off the roof anyway.” 

Aiber cocks an eyebrow. “Have you ever thought that you might be the problem? Are you as unkind to your employees and patrons as you are to me?”

“In all fairness, they aren’t taking every opportunity to seduce me.”

Aiber throws back his head and laughs a glaringly fake laugh. “I walked into that one.” Wedy uncrosses her legs, then crosses them back the other way.

“What do you want me to do, Aiber What do I have to do to keep my job?” His eyes widen and she’s ready to slap him. Swallowing the taste of stale smoke in her mouth, she rephrases her question with care. “What do you want me to do to improve business?”

“I understand that business is down, but you’re still low on employees. You need to hire at least one more person to be able to fill a schedule,” Aiber demands.

Wedy sighs like a teenager being sent to bed early. “Hiring is so tedious, but fine.”

“I’d hate to strip you,” Aiber coos, “of this management position you worked on your hands and knees to get.” The innuendo is appalling. He places his index finger on Wedy’s coral lips. “I’d hate to fire you, because I don’t know if I could stand seeing someone as pretty as you cry.” 

Wedy opens her mouth and sinks her teeth into Aiber’s finger. She makes direct eye contact, letting him know she could bite harder if she wanted to, that she’s in control. He loves it. She releases and he rubs at the afflicted finger gingerly until the teeth marks vanish. “You’d better believe that I’m pretty,” Wedy snarls. 

\---

B makes L’s cappuccino with too much foam on purpose, laughing hysterically as he swirls the beverage like it’s the funniest joke on the face on the planet. To B, it probably is. He’ll do anything to annoy L, it’s a game and B loves to win.

“Heading to your little dead-end job, poppet?” he snickers, handing the drink to L. L opens his black leather wallet to pay but B smacks his wrist away. 

“You’re one to talk,” L smirks, sipping the drink and grimacing as he gets accustomed to the taste. 

“We’re both captains of a sinking ship aren’t we, dear?” B ponders, stroking his chin.

“The difference between you and me is that I’m lowering my lifeboat, one step at a time,” L responds sharply. “I’ll row away and I’ll reach dry land and my best days are ahead of me.”

“Oh right,” B guffaws. “You stayed in school. You didn’t drop out like I did.”

“I didn’t give up on my dreams like you did.”

“Yes, well,” B studies the swirled pattern on the ceiling of the coffeehouse. “Dreams can change, can’t they?”

They say their forced goodbyes and see you laters and L hustles on to work. He hates the way B makes him think about things, he’s always hated it. B stands at the window wearing a stained apron and a half-grin, positively entertained by their conversation. He can’t wait to see L again, to taunt him, to make him squint his dark eyes out of frustration and bite his tight lips until they bleed.

L arrives at work five minutes early. He prefers being ten minutes early, but he’s happy to have another reason to be irritated with B. He hears Wedy’s voice in the next room barking orders to what must be a new hire.

“The schedule is posted every Monday,” she announces. “Oh, and we do have a dress code here. You’ll need to wear black pants from now on. No khakis.”

Khakis. 

“Oh. Okay,” comes an earnest voice from the next room, an awfully familiar voice. “I’ll need to get some more black pants then,” the voice laughs. “It’s no problem. I can manage. So, who is going to be training me today?”

Suddenly, L’s coffee tastes worse than it did before.


	4. Give Me Your Reasons, I Don't Have to Believe Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it IS an obsession.

“Hey Kiyomi. It’s me.”

Kiyomi gasps into the curve of her cell phone. “It’s about time you called me, Teru! Have you spoken to Light?”

“He’s been busy lately and I make a point not to step on his toes,” Teru asserts. “Apart from classes and baseball, he just got a job at a fast food place somewhere near campus and I barely see him.”

“Hold on,” Kiyomi snickers. “Light Yagami, To-Oh’s golden pupil, is working at a burger joint? Why in the world?”

“I don’t know and it’s none of my business. I didn’t call you to talk about Light,” Teru states through clenched jaws. “It’s obvious he isn’t interested in you anyway.” He doesn’t mean to come across so harsh, but this needs to be said.

“Oh?” Kiyomi pouts. “He’s not interested in me?”

“Light has no passion for anything. He studies because he feels it’s expected of him. He doesn’t enjoy sports, but he’s good at them, so he plays because he thinks he should. He only talks to people if they speak to him first because he lacks the interest to approach someone on his own. Nothing holds his attention and he’s made putting up walls into an art form. Don’t you think you deserve better?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“It’s taken a few days for me to think over what I wanted to say to you, and that’s why I’m finally calling you now,” Teru explains. “Why don’t you stop chasing Light and give me a chance?”

Kiyomi giggles at the bizarre proposition. “Why not?” she exhales halfheartedly. If anything, going out with Light’s roommate might be what she needs to get his attention. She’s not giving up. Not yet. 

“You’ll go out with me sometime?” Teru didn’t think he’d get this far and he needs to be certain he’s actually awake.

“We’ll plan something before too long, okay” Kiyomi smiles against the phone. “My friend Matt is touring with his band right now and they’ll be doing a show at To-Oh in the next couple weeks. Keep your schedule clear and I’ll text you when I know the exact date.”

“I… I will.” Teru replies, trying to mask his giddiness by sounding calm and masculine but Kiyomi sees right through it and she’s delighted by how smitten he is. As they conclude their phone call, she can’t help but wish Light felt the same way.

\---  
L wonders if it’s too late to rip up the floor tiles and begin tunneling a way out of this situation. 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Wedy intones, rounding the corner and preventing any miniscule hope he has of escaping. “This is our new hire, Tsuki Something-Or-Other.”

“It’s Light,” a voice declares, and a khaki-clad leg darts around the corner. “Light Yagami,” he smirks. He’s too tall for the doorway, so he ducks slightly as he joins Wedy and a distinctly vexed L. “L and I go to university together.” 

“Good, then this will be much easier on all of us since you two already know each other,” Wedy laughs. “L, do you think you’ll be able to show Light the ropes? I’ve already explained the dress code so he’ll be losing the khakis next time, but he could use some help getting used to the job itself.”

L slams his unfinished cappuccino into the trash. “Can’t Kyoko do it?”

“Kyoko got fired,” Wedy reminds him.

“What about Misa?”

Wedy goes silent and leads L and Light to the front counter and beckons for the pair to observe Misa with her face underneath the drink dispenser, struggling to catch a stream of grape soda in her mouth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Wedy explains, shaking her head. “Why are you so opposed to this, L?”

L prepares a well-worded explanation, but Misa spins around and her shriek overtakes the conversation. “Am I dreaming?!” she exclaims, wiping a purple droplet from her chin. “You’re the person Wedy hired?!” 

“Hello,” Light says to the wall. “I’m Light.”

“Oh, I know who you are!” Misa giggles into her palm. “The name’s Misa Amane. If you had called me when I gave you my number you would have known that by now.”

“Nice to meet you, Misa,” Light says to the ceiling. He’s either ignoring Misa’s attempts at flirting, or he’s oblivious. L can’t decide which it is. Misa frowns momentarily but paints her smile back on and skitters back to the soda machine to clean up the mess she’s made.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Wedy says and starts to walk away.

“You mean you’re not going to work? You’re just going to leave us here?” L sputters, waving his spindly arms like a malfunctioning windmill.

“I need to make a phone call to corporate so that should just take a little while. Hold down the fort until I get back,” Wedy replies listlessly and retires to the back room. Chills electrify her skin as she retrieves her cell phone from her pocket and dials.

Aiber answers on the first ring. “Yes?” he says, pretending to be businesslike. He knows it’s Wedy calling, but feigning importance is part of Aiber’s shtick. 

“Aiber, it’s Wedy. I did what you asked me to do. I have a new hire starting today.” 

Aiber clicks his tongue against his teeth and tosses back some cheap bourbon. “Way to go, angel,” he snarls. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet. If we see profitability in this upcoming quarter then you just might get to keep your job. Wouldn’t that be lovely? You wouldn’t be out clawing around on the streets. Again.”

“There’s always got to be some kind of scathing remark with you,” Wedy says with disgust. 

“Say, doll, what are you doing Friday night?” Aiber purrs.

“Not you,” Wedy snaps, and hangs up on him. She staggers outside in desperate need of a cigarette. 

Back at the counter, L buries his face into his hands, rubbing his gloomy eyes over and over again with his fingers in hopes of erasing Light from his line of vision. 

Light throws his hand over his heart and stands tall and proud. “So about that real world experience you told me I didn’t have – teach me.” L makes an outlandish sound that’s somewhere between an exasperated howl and a laugh.

“Are you trying to impress me?” L sneers. 

“I’m trying to prove you wrong,” Light claims.

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” quips L. “Death by frustration, that’s what it is. You’ve tracked me down at work. You steal glances at me in class when I’m trying to study and you think I don’t notice. Now you’ve given crazy a whole new meaning and you’ve conveniently taken a job where I work? You’re obsessed.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I put in several applications. This was the first place to offer an interview,” Light lies. He’s only applied here. This is the only place he wants to be – with L. As much as he hates it, hates L, his mind can’t rest unless he’s with him.

“With your privilege and connections you could have worked anywhere,” L deduces. “Of anywhere you could have gone, you choose a hole-in-the-wall hamburger restaurant where the guy who hurt your feelings one time happens to work.” 

Maybe it is an obsession. Light is not honestly interested in L as a person, but he’s engrossed in figuring out what makes him tick. He’s a baffling, lanky, freak of nature with messy hair and sad eyes and Light can’t stand how much L has changed his grip on reality. L takes him away from the safe cocoon of expensive sports cars and Egyptian cotton sheets that Light calls home. L is not fancy dinner parties with hushed conversations and overseas holidays in cities with glittering seascapes. L is a shadowy avenue that no one wants to travel. L is a dark room with a leak in the ceiling and a rusty pail on the floor. L is the representation of the real world Light used to ask about as a child, and his parents would only pat him on the head and tell him to count his blessings. He had never hurt Light’s feelings; he had awakened his curiosity, and Light has never once been intrigued by anything.

“It sounds to me like you’re making this all about you,” Light redirects. “I needed a job so I can start helping my parents pay for necessary expenses. You know – cell phone, insurance, the like.”

“I don’t use a cell phone and I don’t own a car so I don’t carry insurance. I walk everywhere. It’s better for your health anyway. How are those necessary expenses?” L has an argument for everything. Light thinks he would make a better prosecutor than Teru. 

“You are aware that there’s also health insurance, life insurance…” Light argues against his better judgment. He feels stupid debating these petty topics but L is baiting him into a fight for, arguably, his own amusement.

“Light, I truly do not care why you’re here. If you’re obsessed with me, you’ll get over it. If you’re actually here to work then you’ll take some of the burden off of me, and that’s all I’m concerned with. I wish I could catch a break these days,” L groans, letting his shoulders relax a little. Light leans forward, anticipating L to explain further but no such luck. “We’re wasting our time standing around like this. How about I show you how things work around here so we can get this over and done with? My guess is you’ll quit within a week.”

“Your guess is wrong,” Light contends.

L tosses him a blank nametag and a permanent marker. “Whatever,” he snorts. “Put your name on the tag in your pretty handwriting and come join me at the register.”

It doesn’t matter. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B will show up again in Chapter 5! Also, did you see how I casually slipped Matt into the story? He will be showing up in later chapters (along with Mello and Near)! I'm a little worried about how I'm writing Kiyomi and Misa at the moment but I have big plans for them later. Like I've said before, I'm writing this as it comes to me and I had never intended to extend this past the first part. To say I'm winging it would be an understatement. A big thank you, as always, to everyone who has been reading!


End file.
